


Home

by JustAnotherBlonde



Series: The Lights Will Guide You Home [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: A narcissist meets himself, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Desert Planet, Implied Unrequited Love, Not your typical reaction, Other, Sandaime Kazekage - Freeform, Sasori has no idea how to parent, Sasori vs. Chiyo Android fight, Sasori's memories of the Third are intense, Time Travel, can you imagine trying to parent yourself?, talk no jutsu, two narcissists one spaceship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherBlonde/pseuds/JustAnotherBlonde
Summary: Twelve years after defeating Chiyo and that girl, Sasori returns to his home planet, Suna, by sending his consciousness through time to arrive twenty-nine years before the battle ever took place, looking to give himself a second chance.
Relationships: Sasori & Sasori
Series: The Lights Will Guide You Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032099
Comments: 24
Kudos: 26
Collections: Naruto Sci-fi Week!, Sasori Mini Bang, why im sleep deprived 💖✨





	1. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve years after defeating Chiyo and that girl, Sasori returns to his home planet, Suna, by sending his consciousness through time to arrive twenty-nine years before the battle ever took place. He is looking for someone.
> 
> _"A blast of gritty desert wind whipped through Sasori's robes and forced him to close his eyes. His long lashes blocked the particles of sand from entering the membranes of his ocular implants—the length of his eyelashes was as functional as it was cosmetic. Every part of this body was."_
> 
> **Sasori Mini-Bang 2020**  
>  Day 3 Prompt: Sasori Survives!AU / Precious Gifts

A blast of gritty desert wind whipped through Sasori's robes and forced him to close his eyes. His long lashes blocked the particles of sand from entering the membranes of his ocular implants—the length of his eyelashes was as functional as it was cosmetic. Every part of this body was.

The eyes and hands were the only parts of one's body that remained exposed in traditional Sunan attire. Decades had passed since he last set foot on this planet, and long had it been since he had worn the robes, head wrappings and breathing apparatus of his people. Today the apparatus was merely part of his disguise: the body he now inhabited did not require recycled water or oxygen to survive this harsh, arid climate.

He scanned the crowded market square once more, running infrared and x-ray analyses in addition to visual spectrum partly because he could, and partly because he was growing impatient. Where was the boy? Dozens of people bustled back and forth from stall to stall, the hot, heavy air peppered with the shouts of merchants advertising their wares. He had not missed this chaos.

Today was the right day to execute his plan, of that much he was certain. He had been watching and waiting, as much as he hated it. The wormhole had brought his consciousness to the right year, but he had still needed many of this planet's lunar cycles to reconstruct a body that met his requirements. After that, he had needed time to observe and devise a strategy while remaining incognito—or, more specifically, off Chiyo's radar. If she were to discover him here and now all of his preparation would be for nothing.

There. Chiyo and her grandson appeared at the far end of the square. She paused at a vegetable stall while the boy wandered into the crowded market on his own, dull brown eyes passively perceiving the boisterous atmosphere. He held something in his hands—Sasori remembered it well—one of his earlier robots, a melon-sized scorpion complete with flexible, actuated joints. The boy was looking for somewhere secluded to play with it.

Sasori waited just inside the mouth of an alley at the edge of the square, leaning sideways against the scratchy stucco wall, silently watching his grandmother. Strange, to see her going about her business like an ordinary old woman when, in time as _he_ had experienced it, twelve standard year cycles ago he had ended her life in a battle like none other. For the woman haggling over a butternut squash fifty meters away, that moment was still twenty-nine years into her future. Ironic, really, that it had been knowledge she herself had imparted on him during that fight which had inspired him to find his way here, to this day.

_"Infinitesimal wormholes and time loops exist all around us, Sasori," she explained as she helped the pink-haired girl to her feet, both of them rising from injuries that should have claimed their lives. Chiyo had done something that Sasori was struggling in that moment to comprehend. "If you can find them and cast your conscious through them, you can travel through time, perhaps even change the past."_

That statement had shaken him to his hollowed-out core: _If I could travel back in time, I could do it all again. Do it better. Perfect my art._ And since he already existed as pure consciousness within his android body, it would be even easier for him to travel, easier than it had been for Chiyo with her flawed human body and mind—she had only been able to project herself through the wormhole as a fleeting warning, imparting information to her past self on how to evade his attack, and it had only worked once.

He had made short work of Chiyo and the girl after that. As she breathed her last breath, Chiyo had said: _“I was going to fix it. I was going to bring them back for you…”_

Following the battle, he washed his hands of Pein, the organization, and his partner. Pein had never understood Sasori’s true motivations for joining Akatsuki. The organization had always been a means to an end, and that end was—and always will be—achieving eternity.

It had taken twelve years of research and a string of failures. Traveling forward into the future was far easier than travelling to the past, and staying within a time loop was easiest. The loops were closed: nothing could be changed. He had traversed the galaxy, consulting with systems-renowned astrophysicists and ninjutsu experts, seeking a way to travel to and _change_ the past. Even now, he wasn’t sure it would work. He had travelled here, back to Suna, back to his childhood, but even now, every theory he had ever learned indicated that what he was trying to do was impossible.

A flash of brilliant red hair flitted between stalls not ten meters away: the boy’s hood had slipped off and he was drawing closer. Sasori stole deeper into the alley. It was now or never. His robes swirled around his legs as he ducked into the back-door alcove he had chosen earlier.

The boy tripped into the alleyway. His staring eyes scanned the space for threats to the solitude he sought. Finding none—just as Sasori remembered—the boy unhooked his breathing apparatus (unnecessary in the cool shelter of the alley), knelt to the ground and began to set up his scorpion. As a chakra-user, he did not need any physical controller to manipulate the robot—no wired or wireless connection to the motors or electrical nervous system, no code to run on a handheld computer, no buttons to press—all he needed to do was know where to send his chakra. He was good at this, but for now the boy still needed to hold his hands out, his twitching fingers giving away the robot’s every motion.

Flick. The scorpion’s tail jerked. Flick, twist. The scorpion crouched. Twitch, twitch. Legs bent. Let fly the wrist—it pounced! The corners of the boy’s mouth perked up. He spread his feet apart and extended his arms, leading the scorpion through a series of intricately choreographed movements.

Observing from the shadowed alcove, Sasori smiled to remember how it had only taken another year or so from this point for him to learn how to manipulate chakra without the accompanying gestures. He lived it now, every movement and mannerism of his robotic body—from walking to blinking to smiling and speaking—was activated by consciousness-controlled chakra.

Sasori waited—no, he watched. It was different. He remembered this moment so vividly, this moment of solitude, alone with his precious creation. It was one of only a handful of memories from his childhood which was colored with joy. A fleeting moment, fated to end when—

_Crack_.

The scorpion, pushed to its limit, lay crippled, one leg dangling uselessly, the rest of it tipped sideways, curled up like an expired spider. The boy stared, tears threatening at the corners of his long-lashed eyes—but they would remain there.

Sasori stepped out of the shadows.

The boy looked up, surprise and recognition illuminating his pale brown eyes. It was telling that he did not rub his tears away, but rather stood his ground. Sasori’s artificial body was held captive by odd yet distantly familiar reactions: his central power core pumped harder, his hands trembled, his jaw stiffened… Echoes of his humanity.

“It’s you…” the boy whispered softly, face betraying no emotion beyond recognition.

Sasori cocked his head. “You know me? Who do you think I am?” His clear tenor voice conveyed genuine puzzlement. His hair was wrapped up, his mouth concealed behind a breathing apparatus. All the boy could see was his eyes.

“You’re me. It’s obvious.”

Eyes wide, Sasori unhooked his breathing apparatus and let it dangle near his ear. He tugged on the end of his turban and unraveled it, allowing the cloth to pool at his feet. He ran a hand through his shaggy red hair to ensure it had not been flattened or misshapen by the head covering.

The boy took a step closer. Sasori was fighting a very strong urge that he scarcely understood. He was having trouble believing such an urge could originate from within himself. But he _knew_ how lonely the little boy in front of him was. He _knew_ that the touch and comfort the boy craved was something Chiyo had never given him. But he _knew_ what would happen if this boy stayed here and grew up on this ruthless planet, in this militant, thankless system. And above all else, the boy before him was the person he loved most in all the universe.

The boy blinked up at him, one hand extended, reaching for Sasori’s face, or a hand—any part of him to touch and examine.

“You’re a robot,” the boy stated. “Why?”

Sasori gave in to his urge. He knelt and swept the boy into his arms, holding him close to his chest, gently cradling his head and pressing his cheek into the boy’s red hair. He never wanted to let go of this precious gift. Fluid was leaking from his ocular implants. It was no coincidence that he had designed this body to function in this way. To ensure success on missions, it had been essential to be able to pass as human whenever possible. For a realistic look, the eyes needed to be membranous, and the membranes needed lubrication. It was all very scientific and rational. But it meant that now, in this moment, tears were streaming down Sasori’s cheeks and spilling into the boy’s hair.

The boy snaked his small arms around Sasori’s back, tentative at first, but when it became apparent that Sasori was not letting him go any time soon, the boy relaxed into the embrace. Sasori could sense the warmth of the boy’s body, measure his heartrate to the millisecond. His olfactory sensors categorized the scents of the boy’s dusty hair, his skin, the soap he had used that morning, the oil and spices clinging to his clothes from his walk through the market.

“I’m glad you’re here,” the boy said in a small voice. “I don’t know why, but suddenly I don’t feel like I’m alone anymore.”

Wordlessly, Sasori seated himself and drew the boy onto his lap. Little Sasori climbed up willingly, looking at Sasori with hope and trust. He raised a hand to Sasori’s cheek, wiping at the fluid and testing the firmness of Sasori’s cheek.

“You made this body.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course,” Sasori replied, finally finding his voice. Why would his voice scratch and catch like that? This body was supposed to be flawless. Invincible. So why did he feel that were a strong wind to rise just then it would knock him flat on his back?

“I can’t believe I made it here,” he whispered, studying the boy, every inch of him. He picked up the boy’s hand, inspected his fingers, found a cut and one scraped knuckle. “I can’t believe I’m here, with you…”

“You’re going to take me away,” the boy said in his high, sweet voice. Again, it wasn’t a question.

Sasori nodded. “We’re leaving this place. We’re leaving Chiyo—”

“Grandma Chiyo?” Little Sasori’s brow furrowed. “But—”

“She’ll be fine. And we’ll be better off without her,” Sasori said darkly, searching Little Sasori’s eyes. He cupped and stroked Little Sasori’s cheek. It was soft, tender, as of yet unscarred by harsh winds or an abrasive breathing apparatus.

The little one nodded, and Sasori could see that behind those grey-brown eyes, his mind was calculating, adjusting. With a flick of his fingers, Little Sasori called the scorpion to his hands, turning it over to inspect the broken leg.

“Are we bringing Mother and Father?” he asked, looking up at Sasori.

A good question.

“We’d have to go back to the house for them. Chiyo would notice,” Sasori began.

He took the scorpion from Little Sasori and used his chakra to explore the extent of the damage. The little one settled in his lap so that his head came to just under Sasori’s chin and Sasori’s hands extended over his diminutive shoulders, as if he were the human operator within a suit of powered mecha armor. They both imagined this at the same time, and smiled at each other.

“Sasori,” he continued as he worked, “We need to leave Mother and Father behind. I know it probably doesn’t make sense right now but…”

He found the source of the problem: a blown actuator. He could revert the power, disconnect this wire, reconnect that wire, and—

The scorpion sprung to life once more.

Little Sasori clapped his hands and leapt from Sasori’s lap, slipping his chakra in beside Sasori’s within the scorpion to take control of it. The sensation was not unlike passing an object to another person and accidentally brushing against their hand. Inexplicably, Sasori’s sensory faculties perceived this moment as “warm”.

“…we don’t need them,” Sasori said faintly, more to himself than to the radiantly joyful boy before him. The air felt lighter; his mind felt clearer than it had in years. A path was unfolding, reaching into the future farther than Sasori could even begin to imagine. The galaxy was theirs. Time belonged to _them_.

Sasori would be safe.

Sasori was saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Fix You by Coldplay
> 
> _Tears stream down your face  
>  When you lose something you cannot replace  
> Tears stream down your face  
> And I  
> Tears stream down your face  
> I promise you I will learn from my mistakes  
> Tears stream down your face  
> And I  
> Lights will guide you home  
> And ignite your bones  
> And I will try to fix you_


	2. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Naruto Sci-Fi Week 2020**  
>  Dec 2nd - ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ  
> Parallel Worlds / Time Travel
> 
> Sasori and Little Sasori attempt to escape Chiyo, leave Suna, and irreversibly change Sasori's timeline.
> 
> _“Sasori?” Little Sasori called._
> 
> _Sasori jumped at this. It was beyond disconcerting to hear his name being called in a voice that echoed in his deepest memories. And yet…_
> 
> _“Yes? What is it… Sasori?” he tried it out, his tongue twisting around the name, the feeling akin to that of attempting a taijutsu move for the first time._
> 
> _“Grandma is following us.”_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this AU the Japanese terms are used for Sandaime (Third) Kazekage, as well as Nidaime (Second).  
> i try to keep to canon timeline and events as much as possible, but have added some events of my own invention. these should not feel ooc.

The midday bell resounded through the square, cutting through the hubbub of the market. The clangs echoed off the walls of the alleyway where Sasori and Little Sasori stood, taking turns manipulating the little scorpion ‘droid. Sasori paused at the sound of the bell.

“Let’s get going,” Sasori said. Far too much time had passed as they played. What if Chiyo had already noticed?

Thus far he had ensured that his presence on Suna remained completely hidden not only from Chiyo, but the Kazekage himself. His arrival in this timeline went undetected because Suna was at war: defense forces were occupied with scanning the atmosphere for enemy ships, not the appearance of a singular consciousness within city walls. It had helped early on that the body he’d initially time-traveled into looked nothing like his original self. He had spent eight lunar cycles building a body he could be satisfied with—one that presented his true self and was as close to the one he’d left in his own time—by stealing parts and exchanging services where he could. Then, still disguised, passing as a veteran with ‘droid arms and legs, he had worked anonymously until he had money to buy a ship to take them far from this accursed planet. But in all that time no one suspected he was an intruder from another timeline. The last thing he needed now was for the Kazekage to discover that he was here.

He helped Little Sasori with his breathing apparatus, then fixed his own in place. As Little Sasori flipped his hood back on, Sasori took one glance at the turban wrappings he’d strewn on the ground and decided there wasn’t enough time to redo the head covering.

“Pack up Ko-sasori,” Sasori reminded. “Do you have its port-gen?”

“Yes,” Little Sasori replied, pulling a device from his pocket. Resembling an ancient scroll, the handheld portal generator would teleport the scorpion ‘droid back to Little Sasori’s workshop to await its next summoning.

The boy stretched the port-gen out on the ground, placed Ko-sasori on top of it, made the correct hand signs—indeed, his formations were flawless, but that was to be expected of the boy who would become Suna’s youngest Academy graduate—and with an electric crackle, the ‘droid phased out of view. The scroll-shaped device disappeared into one of Little Sasori’s pockets.

Gripping Little Sasori’s hand protectively, Sasori pulled him close as he peered out from the alley. Little Sasori looked up at him with piercing brown eyes.

“Where are we going?” he said, squeezing Sasori’s hand and stepping closer, almost hiding himself in Sasori’s robes.

“To my ship first. Let’s take this one step at a time.” Sasori’s central power core felt unstable, its rhythm irregular. Was he… nervous? Part of him still wondered whether he would truly be able to change the timeline like this. He was meddling in _his_ past—just his own—for now, but what repercussions would this action have down the line? Would this be a ripple that causes a tsunami? Would he be forced to commit the same crimes he had committed in his own timeline for balance to be achieved again?

“Sasori?” Little Sasori called.

Sasori jumped at this. It was beyond disconcerting to hear his name being called in a voice that echoed in his deepest memories. And yet…

“Yes? What is it… Sasori?” he tried it out, his tongue twisting around the name, the feeling akin to that of attempting a taijutsu move for the first time.

“Grandma is following us.”

Sasori did not need to turn his head. He had felt her as soon as Little Sasori said it.

“Shit.”

“Grandma says I’m not supposed to say that word.”

“You can say ‘shit’ all you like, little one,” Sasori said distractedly. He was trying to calculate the quickest route to his ship. He knew Chiyo knew this city like the back of her hand: she’d be on him no matter where he ran.

Perhaps a confrontation was required.

“Come on,” he said as he scooped Little Sasori into his arms. “We need to have a talk with grandmother.”

Leaping into the air so lightly it was as if he was flying, Sasori took them across building tops to the edge of the city, on the east side where his ship was parked just outside the city wall.

He had chosen this departure point over the Sunagakure Shuttle Port for one simple reason: documentation. The Port required Sunan citizens to register all entries and exits, and war time the authorities were extra vigilant. Besides, Little Sasori was not unknown: word would quickly fly to the Kazekage if an unnamed red-haired man attempted to leave the planet with a child resembling Sandaime-sama’s precious prodigy.

The area near Sasori’s exit-point was meant to be cleared for development, but currently neglected and only loosely monitored by the city guards. Buildings half-demolished, streets half-cleared… It had been the site of a foiled attack on the city before Sasori had been born: Iwa shinobi had infiltrated Suna, somehow evading not only planetary defenses but also breaking through Sunagakure’s security network. The Iwa Explosion Corps managed to level the district before the Nidaime Kazekage contained and disposed of them.

Sasori had grown up with a vague, nagging dislike for Iwa and explosives. Perhaps that had factored into some of his aversion to Deidara when they first met…

But now was not the time for introspection.

He had hoped he’d be able to get Little Sasori to his ship before Chiyo caught up with them, but she was already here. Just as Sasori had used his chakra strings to augment his movement speed and take shortcuts over the rooftops, so had she. After all, she’d taught him the technique.

He turned, Little Sasori bundled in his arms.

“Sasori,” Chiyo breathed as soon as she saw him. She, like Little Sasori, recognized him right away. The built-in amplifier of her breathing apparatus gave her speech an artificial ring. “It’s you. How…?”

Little Sasori clutched Sasori’s robes a bit tighter. He didn’t understand exactly what was happening, but he didn’t like the look he saw in his grandmother’s eyes just then. She was… horrified at the sight of adult Sasori.

“Sasori, what have you done to yourself?” Chiyo asked, taking a step closer.

Sasori slowly lowered Little Sasori to the ground, freeing his hands in case it came to combat.

“I’ve become immortal, Chiyo-baa,” Sasori replied, presenting determined expression. “Indestructible. Timeless. I will never leave him. Or abandon him.”

“What exactly is it you’re trying to do?” she asked, the poor quality of her speech amplifier unable to hide the anxiety in her voice.

“I’m giving myself a second chance. Don’t get in our way.”

Chiyo’s eye widened. She saw his resolve, and realising she would make no more progress bargaining with him, she changed tack. She bent down and tried to catch Little Sasori’s gaze.

“Do you really want to go with him, Sasori?” she called gently. “Don’t we have a good life here? Aren’t you happy with me? And your ‘droids?”

Little Sasori clung to Sasori’s robe, but stepped forward to address her.

“I’m ready to leave this place,” he said simply.

The words were a senbon through Chiyo’s heart. She gasped and staggered backwards.

“Let’s go,” Sasori said in a low voice, reaching down for Little Sasori’s hand and turning to depart.

“Wait!” Chiyo cried. “You can’t do this. You’re meddling in things you know nothing about!”

Sasori looked over his shoulder. “I know enough.”

“I can’t let you leave,” Chiyo said grimly. She shook her sleeve and a port-gen appeared in her hand. The device was marked with the word “Crow”.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Little Sasori whined. “Why do _you_ have it?”

“I was having a look at it earlier,” Chiyo replied, the tone of her voice implying that she _knew_ she should not have taken Sasori’s ‘droid.

“You want to fight me?” Sasori murmured. “With Crow?”

“And which toys have you brought?” she asked, shifting on her feet.

“I had to travel light.” Sasori shrugged, leaving it up to her to guess what that meant.

The presence of Crow complicated things. He knew she was always prepared for battle: one could never catch her “empty handed”, given the ‘droid arm she possessed, but he had very little to fight her with in his current state. He remembered Chiyo’s final battle in his own timeline, everything it had taken to defeat her and the girl. The girl had been of little consequence in that fight. Had it been Chiyo alone, he still would have been forced to use everything he could throw at her: Hiruko, Sandaime, his Hundred ‘Droid Army, and every last one of his body’s augmentations. She was tough, determined and fervently loyal to the young Kazekage his organization had just murdered. What would she do now, to prevent him from leaving with the boy she believed she had a duty to raise?

But… what year was it now? If Crow was there, hadn’t he also already…

“Here,” Little Sasori whispered, pressing a port-gen into his hand. “It’s Black Ant. She doesn’t know—”

“—how they work together yet,” Sasori finished. A plan formed in his mind.

He tucked the scroll into his sleeve, praying that Chiyo hadn’t seen Little Sasori pass it to him, but knowing just how on guard she always was. You could take the shinobi out of the war but you couldn’t take the war out of the shinobi. His grandmother had never really been able to forget that she was a fighter.

“Chiyo-baa,” he tried again, “I don’t want to fight you. I just want to leave.”

“And I can’t let you do that,” she repeated. She traced her finger along the side of Crow’s scroll, and with an electric crackle, the android phased into view, teleported from Sasori’s workshop at home.

It was his earliest iteration of Crow, before he’d thought to add poison projectiles or smoke bomb launchers, but that still meant that concealed within its body were nearly a dozen long, deadly blades. Each of the limbs, the head, the torso… He couldn’t let that thing get anywhere _near_ the little one. Come to think of it…

He looked down at Little Sasori. He looked up at Chiyo. How had it been a responsible decision to let such a tiny little boy work with such dangerous weapons? He remembered affixing the blades to Crow’s limbs, taking great care not to cut himself. But of course he had… He recalled the cut he’d discovered on Little Sasori’s hand. He frowned. A six-year-old boy, making weapons…

“Chiyo-baa,” Sasori entreated once more, “Please. You might hurt him. Just let us go.”

“And when did you become a pacifist?” she retorted. “When did you stop fighting? Tell me, in the future you came from, does the war ever end? Is that why you’re taking him away? To live in peace? Have you replaced your human body because you live in a peaceful world?”

“The wars wage on, Chiyo-baa,” he said in a low voice. “That’s all I will say.”

Saying anything more would get him in trouble. He wanted to avoid revealing _anything_ of the future to her, for fear of the influence it might have.

She shifted her stance, bent her knees. Crow hovered several decimeters above the ground just in front of her. She allowed it to edge closer to the Sasoris.

“I know how you came to be here,” she said. “I have been working on a time-travel technique. Did I teach it to you, in the future?”

Sasori was silent.

“No?” she guessed. “Interesting… Do you not remain on Suna? Serving your beloved Kazekage?”

He bristled at this. What did _she_ know about his _beloved_ Kazekage?

Little Sasori looked up at him expectantly at the mention of _his_ beloved Kazekage.

“Do you?” the little one asked in a small voice. “Do you serve him still? Sandaime-sama is always saying when I grow up I’ll be the captain of his Puppet Corps. He was at the house just yesterday with new designs for me to try—”

“I know!” Sasori barked. His power-core was whirring, overheating—if he’d had a heart it would be pounding—that must be what this was, this echo, this gods-forsaken humanity that he _just. couldn’t. shake—_

Without moving his hands, he shot a dozen chakra strings in Chiyo’s direction, ensnaring her and Crow.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, caught off-guard. She strained against the binding. “You manipulate without your hands now…”

With a pulse of her own chakra, she broke free, observing him with narrowed eyes.

“Impressive. But far from enough!”

She sent Crow flying towards him and Little Sasori, its limbs outstretched—she wanted to use the ‘droid to grab the child.

Sasori flew forward to meet it, detaching his hand in order to draw his concealed blade. He threw the hand backwards to Little Sasori, who caught it.

If he could incapacitate Crow before it got any closer—

The ‘droid dodged and leapt over his head, but he was ready: had he not sparred with Chiyo for years? What could she have been thinking? He knew her fighting moves almost better than he knew his own.

He bent his knees and sprang into the air, flipping backwards and landing a kick on Crow’s torso to arrest its trajectory. The ‘droid slammed into the ground and bounced upright, its black hair shaking. Sasori landed between the ‘droid and Little Sasori. If it had been a person, the ‘droid would have stood its ground to fight Sasori, but Chiyo was manipulating it and she had one goal: get to Little Sasori.

It dodged sideways again. Sasori’s blade flashed. Crow lost two arms. The limbs thudded to the sandy pavement, sparking where the wires had been severed.

Chiyo went on the offensive. Crow drew its two remaining arm blades. The detachable limbs flew through the air in a complex dance, but again, Sasori was ready. He could sense her chakra strings, sense her movements.

He parried, deflected, struck out. The air rang with the sound of crossing blades.

He struck one arm so hard that it flew into the sky, the chakra string ripping so abruptly that Chiyo cried out in pain. The severed limb sailed over the rubble and landed somewhere on the next street over.

The second blade slipped past Sasori’s defense and nicked his breathing apparatus. The machine hissed as the oxygen within it dispersed. Sasori tore it off. He didn’t need it.

Chiyo gasped at the sight of his face.

“You look just like him,” she breathed. “Your father…”

“Don’t you dare,” Sasori growled.

Crow suddenly withdrew, its remaining arm returning to hang limply from its torso.

“Sasori,” Chiyo murmured, gazing hard at him. “Why are you _here_? Why didn’t you go back and save _them_?”

He leveled a pitiless stare at her. How little she understood. Perhaps he could save her from walking the fruitless path that had ultimately led to her death: he would tell her what he had discovered.

“I _did_ try. I tried travelling _everywhere_. It took _years_ and _years_ of research, failed experiments. I got lost once, lost for what turned out to be an entire, galaxy-standard year. It felt like much longer than that. I drifted, bodiless, until I almost forgot who I was. _That_ time, I saw them. I saw them, resting beneath a tree on Konoha, her head in his lap, dozing. On their way to one mission or another. Was it the one that killed them? I’ll never know. But I could do nothing. I had nowhere to land. No body waiting for me there. I could only watch.”

“So the body cannot—”

“I’ve told you too much,” he interjected. “Perhaps now that you know the cost, you might believe you’re willing to pay it. But I’ll tell you this now, there’s nothing you can change about what happened to them. It cannot be done.”

Chiyo’s expression morphed into one of anguish and disbelief. “But then how are you here now? How can this be possible?”

Sasori shrugged. “Perhaps it isn’t. Perhaps you’ll best me here and now, take him home, and everything you see before you today, he will become in time. Perhaps this is the loop that we’re doomed to repeat.”

Little Sasori had been listening intently to this exchange. His older self had been through so much more than he could imagine. He had a vague sense that he ought to be frightened by this man, but this was overwhelmed by pure curiosity.

Throwing caution to the wind, he ran forward to stand beside adult Sasori.

“Chiyo-baasama!” he cried, his expression firm. “Let me go! I want to see the galaxy. I want to learn from him. I want to learn how to travel in time, too.”

“No!” Both adult Sasori and Chiyo exclaimed simultaneously. They looked at each other.

Sasori eyed Chiyo as he took a step closer to Little Sasori and placed a protective hand on his back. He knelt down to address him.

“The cost, little one…” Sasori said softly, “the cost is to become like me. To give up your human body. Forever.”

Little Sasori looked down at his hands, the cut finger, scraped knuckle. He raised a hand to his heart, clutching at the fabric of his robe there. Beneath lay the crater of devastation left when his parents died.

“Maybe…”

Sasori’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t…”

Little Sasori looked at him, amber-brown eyes gentle, sorrowful.

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

An artificial synapse blew in Sasori’s mind. He had nothing to say to this. He _knew_ he’d felt that way since he was a child, but to hear it said aloud? To _see_ just how small he’d been? What did he want for himself, really? What was the point of all this?

He made up his mind.

Without another glance at Chiyo or Crow, he scooped Little Sasori up in his arms, and propelled himself forward with chakra. If he used chakra strings, he could slingshot himself through the rubble, moving faster than Chiyo could pursue.

Or so he thought.

He cleared a mountain of rubble, vaulting over it with one hand with Little Sasori on his hip—the boy was using his own chakra strings to hold on. As Sasori turned his head to cast his senses behind and ascertain Chiyo’s position, Crow’s head flew past, looped around and flew straight for his chest.

_What the hell is she trying to do?!_ he thought angrily, torqueing his torso so that the blade narrowly missed skewering him like a hunk of lamb.

“You’re going to end up killing him!” he shouted back at her. “Is that what you want? You want to eliminate me from the timeline altogether?” _You crazy bitch_ , he thought but didn’t say out loud.

They had to shake her. If he could just get to the ship—

“Sasori!” Little Sasori hissed. “Can you take Crow from her?”

He thought about it as they continued to soar over the rubble—could he overpower her chakra? If he could gain control of Crow—

“Then I’ll catch her with Black Ant,” Little Sasori finished his thought.

“I’ll have to stop moving. Can you handl—”

Little Sasori clicked his tongue. “I’ve been studying at the Academy for almost a whole year now. Sandaime-sama says I could graduate in the spring if I work hard.”

Of course. He _would_ graduate that spring. And a year after that he would pass his chunin exams.

“Right.”

They reached the foot of the wall. There was a secret passage here, a narrow crack that had formed in the wall during the Iwa attack. If they tried to cross over the top of the wall, they ran the risk of encountering one of the regular patrols. By contrast, this passage was unguarded, although Sasori suspected that it had been purposefully left this way as a kind of test for their enemies or perhaps even a private exit for the Kazekage or Anbu. Sasori’s ship and their escape were one short crawl away.

Of course, he hadn’t planned on trying to scrabble through the tiny crevice with Chiyo and Crow in hot pursuit.

The area in front of the passage was sandy, with large, slanting dunes built up along the wall. Huge boulders protruded in odd locations, remnants of buildings that had landed here following the explosion. These could provide cover for Little Sasori, or Chiyo could use them to her advantage. An awkward battlefield.

When she reached them, Little Sasori was hidden behind a boulder, suppressing his chakra as much as he could to avoid her detection. Sasori stood in plain view, extending his chakra in a wide net to throw Chiyo off Little Sasori’s signal. He had sheathed his blade. His arms were at his sides, slightly raised, chakra strings extending from tips of the fingers of his two human hands, waving in the air near the ground as they sought an object to connect with.

“Sasori!” Chiyo exclaimed, pausing to catch her breath. Crow was looking worse for the wear, its shaggy black hair sticking up at odd angles, three arms missing… Chiyo scanned the space, eyes wild. “Where is he?”

“Gone,” Sasori replied, walking slowly towards her. He arranged his face into a gentle, smiling expression, one he’d seen his father make when he was comforting someone. Chiyo’s lower lip trembled at the sight: the trick worked. She dropped her guard just a hair.

“You can’t…” she began, her voice cracking.

“Let us go, Grandmother,” he murmured. He stood in front of her, within striking distance if she wanted to strike.

“I can’t let you take him. Suna needs him. It needs you.”

“I can’t stay here, Grandmother,” he coaxed. He had to get her to completely lower her guard. “The things I’ll see, the things I’ll do… the… this is what I become, Grandmother. Is that what you want for him?”

“Why can’t we try again… together?”

Of course she would think to ask that. He hung his head, gathering his words, then looked into her eyes. He had to make her understand.

“Because you would never leave Suna. And if I stay here, _he_ will drag us into the war. _He_ will make us fight for him. If I stay…” Sasori’s mind and body clenched in a tight knot. His power core grew hot, whirring unhealthily. “…if I stay, I will be unable to refuse him. It wouldn’t matter what he asked of me, I would do it. For _my_ Kazekage…”

Chiyo cocked her head at him. Understanding blossomed in her eyes. “You love him… More than just…”

“I KILLED HIM!” he shouted, as emotions he thought he’d never feel again _screamed_ through his artificial body. He snapped all of his chakra strings onto her body in one targeted strike. They converged on her chest and threw her backwards. He had intended to get close and _gently_ steal Crow from her when her guard was down—he’d blown that chance.

No matter—her defenses were destroyed now. She lay on her back, stunned.

He swept Crow from her trembling fingers in a powerful binding of chakra and released all of its remaining blades: one arm, two legs and the head. The sight of these blades homing in on her was enough to spur Chiyo into action: she leapt to her feet and took up a defensive stance, carefully observing the circling limbs.

The blades stabbed down; she danced away; she deflected them with her right arm—she’d replaced it after the last war, a ‘droid arm with more than a few tricks up its sleeve. He needed to incapacitate her before she could use it.

He quickly rediscovered the arrhythmic pattern he’d developed to disorient his enemies with Crow’s multiple blades. It had been decades since he’d used Crow, but the pattern was as familiar to him as his own name. The enemy would think they had the pattern figured out… then a blade would slice into their blind spot, they’d stumble, and the dance would begin again, until—

He had her.

“Now, Sasori!” he called, suddenly fearful that the boy would be too shocked to fight, that his unplanned confession to murder had ruined _everything—_

Black Ant materialized right where it needed to be, its round barrel of a stomach gaping, ready for its cargo.

Chiyo looked over her shoulder when she sensed it, but it was already too late.

With a _thud-thud-thud_ Black Ant’s torso sealed closed, trapping Chiyo inside.

Sasori dropped Crow, not bothering with the kill-shot. Instead, he slipped a chakra string inside and forced it, needle-thin, into the area of Chiyo’s brain which would stimulate sleep.

“You’re not going to kill her?” Little Sasori’s voice rang out. He had emerged from his hiding spot, but kept his distance.

“No, let’s go,” Sasori said darkly, striding up to the little one and reaching for his hand.

Little Sasori pulled his hand away.

“If you don’t kill her she’ll come for us,” Little Sasori continued.

“She’ll never find us once we leave Suna. The galaxy is enormous, little one.”

“But you killed Sandaime-sama,” he retorted, voice dripping with accusation. “What does it matter to you if you kill Grandma Chiyo?”

“I have killed _many_ people in my time, little one,” Sasori said, his tone calm and measured. “I even… killed… I _did_ kill her, in my past. Twenty-nine years from now for you. But what would be the point in killing her now? There’s much she can still do. Let Suna have her, an elder adviser—”

“No.” Little Sasori had a grim fire in his eyes. “She will tell _him_ we’re leaving. He’ll come looking for us.”

Sasori stared at him. Of course. He could run from Chiyo, but could he run from the Sandaime Kazekage? Suna could have two Sasoris for the price of one…

“We have to kill her.”

They looked at one another, having spoken in unison.

“We have to,” Little Sasori urged. “We’re going to kill her anyway, right?”

“No! I mean, that’s not an excuse!” Sasori exclaimed, raising his hands to his head. His mind felt fuzzy, misfired wires, interference—what was wrong with him? Perhaps he’d rushed construction of this body. His old body was never this inconsistent.

Little Sasori sized him up. He recognized that judging look: it was Sandaime’s.

“You’ve grown soft,” Little Sasori concluded.

Sasori’s mouth dropped open. “You sound just like him. ‘The ability to kill is proof of one’s power.’ ‘Emotions are useless to a good soldier.’ Don’t you see? This is why I need to get you _away_ from him!”

“And what if I don’t want to leave?” Little Sasori cried suddenly. “Sandaime-sama takes good care of me. He gives me everything I need. I just don’t understand. _Why_ did you kill him?”

Sasori’s body seized up. He gasped at the memories clawing to the surface of his mind. First, an image of Sandaime-sama as Little Sasori knew him: a wiry twenty-four-year-old with a youthful face, glittering golden eyes, silky blue-black hair, and a white-toothed grin which Sasori used to believe he showed no one but him. To six-year-old Sasori he was the epitome of maturity, a young lion of a leader bursting with energy and ideas, and terrifying raw power.

This image was replaced by Sandaime’s paling, dying face, eyes pleading for him to end the pain. There had been no other way to extract his living chakra-signature and ensure that Sasori’s immortal ‘droid would possess Sandaime’s ability to manipulate iron sand upon completion. Incapacitated by a special nerve-numbing poison of Sasori’s own concoction, he could only lie there, mute and helpless while Sasori drained his life away.

Sasori opened eyes he hadn’t realized he had closed.

“There will be another war on the tail end of this one, a _Third_ Shinobi War,” he explained in a low voice. “We’ll fight, we’ll kill our enemies, but one day…” He grit his teeth, echoes of emotion surfacing once more. “One day we’ll come to our senses. We’ll see how we were _used._ How we were only ever his _puppet_.” Sasori spat the last word with such derision that Little Sasori took a step backwards.

“I don’t understand…” Little Sasori repeated, shrinking from him.

“I don’t expect you to…” Sasori returned sharply. He placed his hands on his hips and looked at the ground in an attempt to collect himself. This was not going at all how he’d hoped.

Black Ant was silent and still, but it was only a matter of time before Chiyo awoke.

“We need to go,” Sasori said, scanning Little Sasori’s body to gauge his emotional state. Did he still want to come with Sasori? Or was this where his little adventure would end? “Will you come with me?”

The little boy looked up at him, lips parted, then looked away.

Sasori’s central power core skipped a beat at Little Sasori’s hesitation.

He knelt down so he could address the boy on his level:

“I… I promise you I will take care of you. I want… I want to…” Words were failing him. What _did_ he want? This plan had made so much more sense before he’d arrived. Had he imagined that his younger self would be some soulless ragdoll for him to manipulate? It had seemed so easy, so simple… But the boy before him was complex, calculating, and ambitious. He was starting to realise that every step of this journey would involve a negotiation.

Silence grew between them as a torpid breeze pushed across the tops of the dunes.

“You frighten me,” Little Sasori said finally, taking a tiny step forward. A troubled little frown formed on his face. “But… I still want to go with you. I want to learn from you.”

Cool relief flushed through Sasori’s systems at this response. He collapsed backwards, sitting down hard. The sand cushioned his fall, gritty and warm beneath his palms. Little Sasori may never understand how important it was for him to leave Suna and the influence of the Sandaime Kazekage, but Sasori knew. The day he killed his _beloved_ Sandaime-sama, he had lost a part of himself he could never recover.

Little Sasori stepped over, folded his arms and frowned down at Sasori.

“But I don’t like running away without finishing the fight. It isn’t smart.”

He had a point. Running was not like Sasori. Running away, that was more Deidara’s—

Wait. Deidara. Their last mission together had been _here_ , in Sunagakure. They had successfully infiltrated the city with the help of Sasori’s sleeper agent, who had remembered his role as Sasori’s spy only _once Sasori had dispersed his memory manipulation jutsu._

“There’s a way.”

“What?”

“There’s a way to escape, prevent Sandaime from discovering us, and avoid killing Chiyo.”

Sasori set to work. It was a simple enough jutsu, but he needed the right type of needle. Why hadn’t he remembered the technique sooner? He would need to look into upgrading his synapses…

“What are you doing?” Little Sasori asked, trailing after Sasori as he walked over to Black Ant.

“We need to open this,” he commanded Little Sasori.

“Won’t she wake?”

“No.”

He let Little Sasori manipulate the ‘droid. _Thud-thud-thud_. Chiyo lay crumpled at the base of the barrel, small and fragile-looking. Sasori knelt and scanned her with his ocular implants, infrared, x-ray, searching for… There. Concealed in her ‘droid arm was a tiny needle, one designed with the sole purpose of becoming embedded in a target’s brain in order to block inconvenient memories, such as the fact that one was a spy for a wanted criminal or that one had just met one’s time-traveling grandson. _Sennō Sōsa no jutsu_ _._ Sasori had used it many times in his life.

“What are you doing?” Little Sasori hovered at his elbow as Sasori flicked open a compartment in Chiyo’s index finger.

Sasori plucked the needle out with a chakra string and placed it on Little Sasori’s open palm. It was barely a centimeter in length.

“Sand Brainwashing Technique. _Sennō Sōsa no jutsu._ With this, she’ll forget she ever saw us. I’ll block everything from when you ran off in the market until now.”

He guided Little Sasori’s palm into position, millimeters from Chiyo’s forehead.

“Watch carefully,” he instructed. “Watch where I place it, the speed you need to pierce the skull and the control necessary to lodge it in the right place.”

The little one nodded, eyes wide.

“This will be quick. You won’t be able to see it. Sense it with your chakra.”

“Okay.”

The needle glinted on Little Sasori’s palm. Then it was gone. A bead of blood the size and shape of an ant’s head pearled on Chiyo’s forehead.

“Oh!” Little Sasori exclaimed. He looked up at Sasori, his expression equal parts awe, envy, and petulance. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” He stood and dusted the sand from his robes. “We need to clean up here. Destroy Crow and Black Ant so they can never be found. We don’t need her wondering how she ended up out here with them.”

Little Sasori’s lower lip trembled. “Destroy them? But—”

Sasori silenced him with a look.

They worked quickly. Sasori carried Chiyo over to the shadow of a boulder where she would be protected from the hot afternoon sun while Little Sasori set to work disassembling the ‘droids. Soon both Black Ant and Crow were reduced to pieces, scattered across the area, and buried beneath the sands.

Sasori monitored the wall and surrounding area for signs of life as they worked. Just as they were preparing to leave, a patrol of guards passed high above them along the wall. Holding Little Sasori in his arms, Sasori leapt across the remaining distance to the mouth of the crevice. They sheltered there until Sasori sensed that the guards had moved on.

“Well,” he said, looking down at Little Sasori. His hood had slipped off again. Sasori flipped it back on and patted Little Sasori’s head. “Are you ready?”

The little one nodded, squinting up at Sasori and slowly blinking his eyes. “I’m tired.”

Sasori knelt down and let Little Sasori climb onto his back. The passage ahead was not so narrow that he couldn’t carry Little Sasori through to the other side.

“Get some rest, little one,” Sasori whispered. “We’ve had a long day.”

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ

With Little Sasori snoozing in the copilot’s chair, Sasori initiated launch sequences and lifted his ship smoothly into the air. He thought he ought to wake the little one, give him one last view of his home planet before departing it most likely for good, but one look at the child’s peaceful sleeping face was all it took to nix that. Sasori’s mouth curved into a smile. The peaceful abandon radiating from Little Sasori was infectious. He stretched, leaned back—

Someone was there. Far, far below, among the ruins, right where they had placed Chiyo, Sasori could sense him, could see a tiny speck of a man.

He was there. Sandaime.

Sasori knew Sandaime lacked the ability to sense them at this distance, but it unnerved him all the same. Had he seen their ship taking off? Would he suspect it was an unauthorized launch? Would he have them tracked? Sasori checked the ship’s scanners—nothing.

As they broke through the atmosphere, he couldn’t shake the inexplicable feeling that they had been _allowed_ to leave.


	3. How do you drive this thing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Naruto Sci-Fi Week 2020**  
>  Dec 8th - ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ  
> Free Day
> 
> Sasori swiftly comes to realise that he's not as well-equipped to parent himself as he'd originally thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a departure from the serious and at times dramatic/emotional tone of the previous pieces. this one's a teensy bit cracked! i have to confess i'm not trying super hard to maintain a singular tone from chapter to chapter!

“Sasoriiiiii…”

The tiny whine rebounded down the corridor from the cockpit and reached Sasori’s audio receptors just as he stepped off the top of the ladder. He had gone below to change out of his Sunan robes, leaving the little one alone as he slept. They had been flying for several galaxy-standard hours, and were currently somewhere near the edge of the Kaze system. Once they cleared the system they would be able to jump to hyperdrive, but he had yet to select a destination.

“Saaaaaaasoriiii…” the high-pitched voice keened.

“What?” Sasori said as he stepped into the cockpit. He had a spacesuit for Little Sasori draped over one arm.

“Sa—” The little one, who had thrown his head back and closed his eyes as he called for his adult counterpart, stopped and straightened. He was standing on the copilot’s seat, just tall enough to see over the top of the headrest if he stood on tiptoe.

“What is it?” Sasori repeated, passing the suit to the boy.

Little Sasori took the suit and inspected it.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Put that on under your robes,” Sasori commanded. Hands now free, he leaned against the door frame and folded his arms in front of his bare chest. For some reason he found himself fighting the urge to check everything in the cockpit over with his most finely tuned sensors… Why didn’t he trust the boy not to have touched anything in his absence?

“Yeah, I just wanted to know where you were,” the little one replied. “But now you’re here. Sasori.”

Sasori’s brows pinched together. He placed a hand on his hip and cocked his head. “I think you just like hearing the sound of your own name.”

Little Sasori grinned at him. “Saaa-sooo-riii.”

Wriggling out of his robes and then dropping himself into the seat, the boy slipped into the spacesuit as if he’d done it a hundred times before. The suit was brand new, made to order. For his ‘nephew,’ Sasori had told the seller. It had a built-in hood which would deploy in case the ship lost air pressure, and an air recycler that could convert CO2 to oxygen almost indefinitely.

Still standing by the door, Sasori drew a lungful of air into his body to taste while he waited for Little Sasori to change. The ship was an older version of the model he used to own, a rare find in Suna’s second-hand market. Although it wasn’t _the same_ ship, he’d already spent several Sunan lunar cycles in this space. It smelled like home.

“Wait, why are you naked?” Little Sasori was standing on the seat again, staring at Sasori over the top of the headrest. All Sasori could see were his thin red eyebrows, pinched in a scowl, and puzzled brown eyes.

“I’m not naked. I’m still wearing pants.”

“But… why?”

Sasori stepped forward and gave the boy’s suit a once-over, securing all of the fasteners and examining the seals and wiring. He’d seen these suits malfunction during an emergency and it was a risk he did not want to take.

Satisfied that there was nothing wrong with Little Sasori’s suit, Sasori sank into his pilot’s seat. He scanned every switch and notification screen with visual, infrared, and x-ray sensors, as well as chakra. Nothing appeared to be out of place.

“Why am I wearing pants or why did I take off my robes?” he asked, glancing at the little one.

Little Sasori was stumped by his response, but only for half a second. “Why did you take your robes off? You made me put a spacesuit on. Where’s yours?”

“I don’t need to wear a spacesuit like you do. I’m more comfortable like this. I can sense more without clothing covering up my synth-skin. Besides, this is my ship. Our ship. I can do whatever I want.”

“That was a lot of excuses to say you like to be naked,” Little Sasori retorted.

He dropped to his bottom again and kicked his robes to the floor.

“Pick those up!” Sasori scolded. “Fold them and place them in that cabinet there.”

With a very put-upon sigh, Little Sasori did as he was told.

Watching the boy grumpily clamber back into the copilot’s seat, Sasori couldn’t help but remember that it had been Deidara’s spot, once upon a time. Sasori had forever been cleaning up after him, extracting long blond hairs from the headrest, plucking them up from the floor… It was still years before that crazy blond would even be born. Would their paths cross again in this timeline? Sasori remembered that Deidara had been orphaned a young age, then abandoned to Iwa’s appallingly broken foster system… Maybe… No, no—Sasori crushed the budding thought before it could take root. He would have his hands plenty full trying to raise _this_ little one. He wouldn’t want to try it again. Stealing a newly-orphaned Deidara from Iwa in fifteen years’ time was an absolutely terrible idea…**

While Sasori day-dreamed, Little Sasori’s gaze traveled across the interior of the cockpit, taking it all in. He was figuring out _where_ everything was first. The next step would be figuring out what everything did. He had the methodical mind of a puppet engineer.

After a moment, he flicked out a finger, hitting an (unimportant) switch with a string of chakra. The switch controlled the direction of the air-conditioner fan. He flicked out another finger, connected chakra to another knob and twisted. Cold air blasted directly onto Sasori’s bare chest.

Shocked from introspection, Sasori side-eyed the boy, who was grinning, giggling and swinging his legs from the edge of the too-tall seat. Face impassive, Sasori returned the switches to the correct positions in one short burst of chakra. He threw his hand out as he did so, but more because he was shifting his position on the pilot’s seat than out of necessity to direct his chakra.

“So, where are we going?” Little Sasori asked in a sweetly-pitched voice, smile packed away but still shining beneath the surface. Since _Old_ Sasori had not gotten angry at his trick, Little Sasori decided he would not react either. He was very much capable of playing the long game.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Sasori replied. “We have options. I’ve visited every system at least once in my lifetime, but there are many factors to consider.”

“You’ve been _everywhere?”_ Little Sasori gazed at him, wide-eyed. “Where did _you_ go when you first left Suna?”

Sasori’s mind swirled with memories. He could never forget the first time he left Suna:

“It was my first mission as a jounin,” he began slowly. “The day after I earned my insignia, Sandaime-sama assigned me to a team and shipped me to Konoha.”

“Konoha? The Fire Planet? Does it really burn? Like living on a sun?”

“No,” Sasori laughed. He reached out and ruffled Little Sasori’s hair, remembering that it was exactly that first trip to Konoha that dispelled that myth from his mind. “Konoha is heavily forested. The system is called ‘Fire’ because of its old, flame-like sun. Their sky is a sight to behold: red and orange waves rippling from an enormous orb… but the planet itself is temperate. Water is plentiful, so vegetation simply bursts from every corner. ‘Konoha’ is ‘leaf’, you know…”

Little Sasori took this all in. “I think I would like to see it. Can we go to Konoha?”

Sasori smiled. “Certainly. But as you know, Konoha is in open war with many systems right now. It will be dangerous getting in.”

“Can we visit it in the future? Once it’s safe?”

“Ha!” Sasori couldn’t help himself. “Safe? What makes you think that the _future_ is _safer_?”

Little Sasori frowned and picked at his spacesuit. “I don’t know… aren’t we fighting in this war so that… Suna can be safe from its enemies?”

“And who told you that?” Sasori retorted. Konoha might not be a bad choice, he thought. It was a large planet, with outposts throughout the Fire System. They could pose as war refugees seeking asylum—it wasn’t far from the truth. Still waiting on an answer, he looked over at the boy.

Little Sasori wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You _know_ who told me that, Sasori,” he muttered.

He did.

“ _His_ way of keeping Suna safe was to _obliterate_ his enemies,” Sasori said in a low voice. “And sacrifice his soldiers in the process. In the end, no one was safe…”

Sasori’s eyes glazed over as he fell headfirst into his memories. Battlefield after battlefield, seas of blood-red sand…

Little Sasori’s voice snapped him back to the present like a lifeline:

“So… why can’t we travel to the future?” Little Sasori knew it was time to change the topic.

Sasori focused his gaze on the boy.

“I already told you: the human body cannot make the journey.”

“So make me into an android!” Little Sasori whined, slapping his hands onto his legs in frustration.

“No!” Sasori exclaimed, turning in his seat and placing both hands on Little Sasori’s shoulders. “It’s irreversible. You can’t put yourself back. And you’re far too young to be making a decision like that.” He stopped himself before he said _I forbid it_ aloud _._

But Little Sasori heard it anyway. He scowled. “Are you gonna be like, my dad now? Telling me what I can and can’t do?”

Sasori sighed, dropped his hands from Little Sasori’s shoulders and wondered how he’d never realized just how exhausting he had been as a child.

“Look,” Sasori said, pinching the pseudo-flesh between his eyebrows between his forefinger and thumb. He didn’t really have a headache, but the action was soothing all the same. “I just want to give you another chance—no, _a_ chance to realize your true potential. To prevent… to prevent you from doing things you’ll regret.”

Little Sasori scowled harder. “Grandma Chiyo let me do whatever I wanted.”

“Grandma Chiyo ignored you!” Sasori shot back. “She left you to your own devices because she couldn’t cope with her own grief and guilt. She _never_ gave you the affection you wanted.”

The little one’s lower lip began to tremble at this.

“I’m sorry,” Sasori said quickly. He reached across, scooped Little Sasori under the armpits, and lifted him into his lap. He wrapped the little one in his arms and Little Sasori snuggled into this embrace immediately, stirring a flutter of surprise within Sasori, who had been expecting him to be stiff and angry.

“Your body feels so strange,” Little Sasori mumbled as his head dropped sideways onto Sasori’s chest. “It’s sort of soft like a person, but not. I can feel how hard your bones are. But you’re warm like a person.”

“Heh,” Sasori grinned. “You should have seen my former body. The one I had before I time-travelled. It was beautiful. A true work of art. The height of technology. I passed as human, but had so many augmentations that I could defeat a dozen foes before I ran out of something new to throw at them.”

“Like what?” Little Sasori’s eyes lit up. He shifted a little and began to methodically inspect Sasori’s body, starting with the hand and arm. He poked and prodded and gazed with such intensity it was as if he too had X-ray vision and could see the what lay beneath the synth-skin.

“Well, the flamethrower was a personal favorite,” Sasori smiled, “but it lacked a certain finesse. Poison flowed through my veins—” he held out his wrist so Little Sasori could feel the veins which pumped beneath his synthetic skin, “—instead of this lubricant. I almost manufactured a batch while I was on Suna, but it takes—”

“I know how long it takes to distill a proper poison, Sasori,” the little boy retorted indignantly.

Sasori had forgotten how much he’d hated being talked down to, how little patience he had for people trying to explain things to him that he already knew. He had never been on the receiving end of that indignation before, however. It stung a little. Hm.

“Well, then in that case, let’s not waste any more time,” Sasori said, clipping each word off as if it were an over-long fingernail. “Get back in your seat. We’re going to Konoha.”

Little Sasori jumped off his lap and climbed back into the copilot’s chair as Sasori threw himself back into his seat and folded his arms. Eyes closed, he pulled the lever to enter hyperdrive using chakra strings alone.

Little Sasori pointedly ignored this blatant attempt to show off.

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ

Two galaxy-standard hours later, Sasori was pulled from standby mode by Little Sasori tapping on his forearm.

"Sasori, I have to pee."

Sasori's mind froze. Systems offline. Reboot.

"What did you say?"

"I have to pee."

Sasori didn't need to turn his head to look at the boy but he did anyway. "You have to pee."

"Yes." The boy asserted, giving Sasori a look that said he was running low on patience. _C'mon old man, you heard me the first time._ "Where's the toilet? I can go by myself."

"There is no toilet on this ship," was Sasori’s immediate reply. The ship was a model originally designed for an android pilot. After Deidara became his partner, they’d done a number of renovations to make it suitable for human habitation. On Suna he’d remembered to retrofit it with an air circulation system and a gravity machine for Little Sasori, those had been important, and he’d even prepared a small bedroom, but…

"What?" It was Little Sasori's turn to malfunction. "Well, where am I supposed to pee?!" His thin little eyebrows furrowed together in frustrated impatience. "What if I have to poo?!"

Sasori mentally checked through the ship's facilities. Was there a container he could re-appropriate? Why hadn't he thought of a toilet??? If Sasori had possessed a stomach, he would have felt the pit of it dropping away just then. Food. Holy gods above and below. He’d forgotten to install a galley. There was nowhere to _prepare_ let alone _store_ food on this vessel. He needed to feed this human boy. Not… right now surely. He'd survive for… how long? How often did humans need to eat??

"Sasori," the boy’s voice sounded far away. Was that because Sasori had become lost in thought? He looked up.

No. It was because the boy was already below, in the loading bay.

"Where are you?" Sasori called, the curt tone of voice betraying just how peeved he was becoming by this whole situation.

There was no answer.

"Sasori, where are you?" Sasori called again, flipping switches and tapping his terminal screen to transfer the ship to autopilot. He sprang from his seat and flew down the corridor—his feet barely touched the floor as he pulled himself along with chakra. He dropped himself down the ladder shaft, not bothering to climb.

He found the boy in a corner by the loading bay doors. His suit was undone. He was ready to go.

“Don’t you dare.”

Little Sasori locked eyes with him. Stared him down. It was the coldest ‘watch me’ stare Sasori had ever seen.

“Don’t!” Sasori cried, springing into action and frantically searching for an empty container. “I’ll make you clean it up!”

“Fine,” was Little Sasori’s cold reply.

The sound and the smell struck him at the same time. Sasori spun and brandished an angry finger.

“How _dare_ you!” he exclaimed, fighting the urge to pick the boy up, slam the airlock release and jettison him into space.

Little Sasori resealed his suit and adjusted himself matter-of-factly.

“Where are your cleaning supplies?” he asked.

Sasori let loose an exasperated sigh. He hadn’t even heard Little Sasori’s question. “You’re worse than _he_ was! I _told_ you not to, then you turn around and—”

The boy had already disappeared from his sight.

“Where—”

“Is this your cleaner-bot?” Little Sasori asked, approaching with a wheeled robot hot on his heels.

“Y—Wait just one minute! I didn’t—”

“It’s just like the one Grandma Chiyo has,” Little Sasori chirped, cheerful that he knew how to operate the robot. He flicked his fingers, using chakra to activate it and adjust its settings. In no time, the device was whirring loudly and swiveling about over the mess in the corner.

Sasori stood in the center of the loading bay, arms halfway raised in an exasperated gesture, jaw dropped, and mouth completely speechless. His ship had a cleaner-bot? Had he known that?? It seemed very effective. The smell was already gone. The corner was dry.

Little Sasori flicked his fingers again and the little cleaner-bot returned to its charging station. He looked up at Sasori and blinked several times.

“Get a toilet installed, _baka_ ,” he drawled in his tiny little voice, turned on his heel and disappeared up the ladder to return to the cockpit.

Alone now, Sasori threw his hands down and released a painfully exasperated groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sasori is getting... broody? looking to add to his collection... of babies???


End file.
